


Little Monkey

by clueingforgaylooks



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Good Sibling Ben Hargreeves, Good Sibling Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus' powers, Multi, No Incest, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Parent Klaus Hargreeves, Season/Series 02, trying to be less dysfunctional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueingforgaylooks/pseuds/clueingforgaylooks
Summary: It was funny how fate worked.Klaus had been sober from hard drugs for two years now (and almost one for alcohol). If there was a time to accidentally knock someone up, it definitely would have been in his twenties when he was livin’ la vida loca with almost no care in the world for the consequences of his actions.But no. Of course no. He should be grateful, in a way. If there was a time for the little girl on the bike to decide he would reproduce (and be aware of it happening), now was the best bet for the little guy. He has a roof over his head, food on his table, a stable job (kind of) and income, and most importantly,he’d been sober for two years.His life was as good as it was gonna get.-Sometimes a family can be a ghost, a séance and a baby.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Original Male Character(s), Ben Hargreeves & The Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Original Male Character(s), Klaus Hargreeves & The Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz, Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 36
Kudos: 101





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I am posting after so many years of writing wips and never going anywhere with them, but here we are! My first TUA fic, I hope you like it! I have worked very hard in this story and I have no shame in asking gentle validation if you happen to like it kajsajskj. 
> 
> This chapter was beated by lovely Gray, go to his tumblr [knifecatklaus](https://knifecatklaus.tumblr.com) for amazing content and check his ao3 [wildeisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildeisms)!
> 
> Without further ado... *shivers with excitementand fear*

_“'Cause love's such an old fashioned word and love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night  
and love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.” _

Under Pressure, Queen & David Bowie.

The sixties were wild.

The first weeks after Klaus and Ben arrived, they went straight to their default survival mode that the streets in the twenty-first century had taught them, not going very far of the alleyway they landed in case one of their siblings was dropped too. Their routine those days consisted of Klaus going to the diner around the corner to steal some food and then returning to the alley to wait. 

Time passed and there was no sign of their siblings. Neither Klaus nor Ben wanted to say it out loud, yet both knew what the other was thinking by the way defeat and sorrow slowly clouded their eyes. 

_What if they didn’t make it?_ _Are we the only one left? What now?_

Klaus even tried to summon them, but nothing happened. It was Five’s disappearance all over again. Part of them wanted to believe that they didn’t come to the call just for the same reason - stuck in another time, but hey, at least alive -, but then Klaus remembered that Ben _also_ didn’t come when he tried to summon him in Vietnam. After the first year regularly checking the alley (they even had left a cryptic message telling how to contact Klaus in case someone turned up), all the hope drained away completely and they stopped repainting the message. 

They were truly alone. In the _sixties_ . In _Dallas, Texas._ Which was _wild._

There was no other explanation for how Klaus managed to get a sugar mummy two months into their arrival just for looking starved, cute and _vulnerable_ after being kicked out of a diner in the middle of fucking Dallas (he has been kicked out of a _lot_ of places and never landed a millionaire old lady, not even a middle-aged closed engineer or whatever lucrative profession, at least for more than a few weeks. Probably because of the drug use. Definitely for the drug use. Not even his dealers who from time to time accepted alternative methods of payments wanted him around for too long). 

The weirdest thing? She didn’t want to sleep with him. Klaus didn’t know what to make of that fact; he didn’t really want to think about it either, if he would do it or not. When he talked about it with Ben the first night in her mansion – _a fucking mansion –_ after a long bath and a delicious dinner, his brother said in his sarcastic witty tone that he obviously would, had he meet himself? He has done worse for a lot less. But then again, one of the benefits of drugs (for him) is that they fuck up his memory and senses. Now weeks soberish (alcohol and weed don’t count yet, Ben. Baby steps!), he wasn’t particularly keen to have those images in his mind. Not after Dave.

Not someone to look a gift horse in the mouth, Klaus put the matter to the back of his mind after the first days passed and Dorothy seemed content with just taking care of him. Klaus learned the first week she was a widow and her only son died on French lands, battling against Nazis on the front lines. She was lonely, he supposed. Why use him as company, though? Only the little girl on the bike would know.

He wasn’t naïve. He knew the good fortune would not last, so it wasn’t long before he and Ben put their brief training into use and started showing their party tricks. At first, just for Dorothy, who was delighted after the shock wore off (what else could he expect from someone who was a spiritualist since 1910?). Then, in proper upper class parties with life-long friends of Dorothy (also spiritualists, of course) and younger people curious and bored enough to watch the new entertainment of the hour. 

He put his foot down at performing séances, though, claiming bad experiences in the past (for once, not a lie). It appeared he was just the thing this town needed, because in just a few months of attending different parties from different hosts he had earned enough money to support himself for the time being – not like it was necessary, as Dorothy covered all his needs, but just in case (he caught himself being astonished at the thought of him _saving_ money) – and had a modest amount of followers. Him, _followers._ He hadn’t had a fanbase since his Academy days!

Ben wasn’t too fond of the idea, as was expected of the official party pooper of their glorious duo.

“You need to be careful, Klaus, you don’t know how all this can affect the timeline,” he said from time to time. And Klaus kind of saw his point, but what could he do if not this? He didn’t have the documents – or skills – to get a job, and it was better than being in the streets again. At least in this they both agreed. 

So time carried on. 

At some point, Dorothy got him an ID when she learned he didn’t have any. She didn’t tell him how she got it, and Klaus didn’t ask when it was obvious she wasn’t going to tell him (Klaus ignored Ben when he pointed out that now he didn’t have excuses to get a job if he wanted to leave).

It was a year since he arrived and ten months since Dorothy took him under her wing when the younger of his followers proposed him a road trip to Mexico in the most hippiest van he has ever seen. The aesthetic was beautiful and colorful and _it had a fucking roof._ If there was a moment he truly loved the sixties, it was that one.

“Do you mind, Dorothy dear? I’ll be back before you know it!” he’d said, excited by the idea of _moving._ He was getting restless after so long in one place with the same people.

“Of course, Klaus. I’ll be waiting for you here,” she said, a smile in place disguising the slight sadness in her eyes. Klaus didn’t let it temper his excitement.

Three days later, twenty (living) people plus a dead one between the age of 23 and 35 years old were driving south for an unknown amount of time.

Finally, _an adventure!_

The journey was great. Klaus enjoyed it. Ben enjoyed it, probably because that newish nerdy girl called J-something, and yes, the ocean. It was exactly what they needed to break the monotony and oppressiveness of the environment that surrounded the oldest upper class people and their parties, which was where the money they earned mostly came from. 

The journey was _great_. 

Until it wasn’t. Kind of.

It wasn’t the first time some of his _followers_ called him something like the _Prophet._ Hell, he himself had built that reputation with the clairvoyant tricks he did, such as guessing cards (with Ben’s help), “predicting” something from the “future” that he already knew was gonna happen (also with Ben’s help, the nerd was better at history than him), and revealing personal information of the ones who has ghosts following them. He brought this on himself, really. The thing was, he was never bothered by it. In reality, he found it hilarious and more often than not he even encouraged it. The whole thing was what gave him the idea of his current look! (It helped that long hair was something he had always wanted, but the streets and Reginald didn’t let it happen before).

It was funny. He was stuck in the fucking sixties alone, just his brother’s ghost as company. And these people were following _him_ around. He was having a laugh. What else was he supposed to do? _It_ _was funny._

That’s it… until about three months into the trip one guy showed him his palms, his newly _tattooed palms_. A sign of devotion and union, he said happily. Klaus didn’t know how to react at the moment and just let a hysterical laughter run free, but didn’t say anything negative per se. He should have. Next day, half the people got their palms inked too. Over a trip to Mexico and a guy who does illusionist tricks at _parties_. People who apparently called him _Prophet_ in a not jokey kind of way, but in a serious ‘ _we_ _believe in you and what you said’_ way.

“Is this weird?” he asked Ben that night, still unnerved by seeing a mark so unique for him replicated in so many others. Both of them were sitting on the roof of the van, away enough to not be heard. “I feel weird.”

Ben looked at him with an unreadable expression. He had been silent since the group showed him their palms just a few hours ago and barely directed a word to him. It didn’t stop him from trying to have a conversation, though. Klaus was used to the silent treatment, being on the receiving end enough times for more than a decade to not feel badly affected by it (just like Ben probably was used to being ignored by him). Still, it was unusual. Ben used to give him the cold shoulder only when Klaus ignored his pleas to get help and refused to tone down the drugs a bit in favor of food and shelter to the point of ODing. Which, fair enough, were plenty of times. 

A few seconds went by. Klaus was sure Ben wasn’t going to give him an answer and was preparing himself for a monologue when his brother surprised him with one.

“Yeah. This is definitely weird. They _listen_ to you. They _care_ ,” he said in a strangled tone, like it was painful for him to admit that. Well, rude. 

Ben’s gaze traveled to the group a few feet away, contemplation in his eyes. Klaus followed it. The group has decided early to put some tents and sleep outside tonight instead of looking for some motel in a nearby town. A fire was lit in the middle of their circle, someone was playing the guitar and the rest were singing softly, sharing blankets. The shining stars in the dark clear sky provided them the only light besides the fire in a lovely new moon night. 

“Should I say something?” Klaus asked, for once open to Ben’s opinion.

“I don’t know…” he answered, a grimace of confusion on his face.

“I mean... we’re not like… hurting them or...” He trailed off, toying with the warm tea in his hands.

“Klaus-” The warning in Ben’s voice made him speak over him, hurry to say his piece before Ben shut it down. He could listen to Ben’s opinion _after_ his brother understood he didn’t mean any harm.

“I just mean—if they're gonna listen anyway, we should take advantage of that—” Maybe it wasn’t a wise choice of words, because Ben’s eyes went wide with incredulity, his signature disappointment and… was that _anger?_

“Seriously, Klaus? You can’t take advantage of this! People are leaving their _lives_ to follow you around! Take Jill, for example! Her parents stopped talking to her-” Klaus could tell Ben was going to rant for a while if he didn’t interrupt him.

“To help them! And _society_! Jesus Christ, Ben, can’t you have a little faith?”

“And how, pray tell, are _you_ going to help them, mm? What possible wisdom can your narcissist ass give to the world?”

“Hippie shit, of course. Help move along the famous counterculture of the 60s,” he said waving his hand.

“That isn’t for at least four more years, Klaus.”

“Well, it won’t hurt to start a little early. Get them ready for revolution and protest!”

“It could, it definitely could. That’s the whole point I am trying to make here. You’re building something that shouldn't exist.”

“Well if it were so terrible, some of that time police Five worked for would have shown up by now, weren’t they? El silencio otorga, mi hermano.” Ben rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“What are you gonna talk about, anyway?” he asked, looking at the sky.

“Freedom, make love not war and all that hot stuff. Pepper some nice songs here and there, maybe.” He shrugged, taking a large sip of tea. It was lukewarm by now.

“So bullshit them.” Ben shook his head at the sky with a distinctive disappointed/unimpressed look only Klaus seemed to provoke. He turned his face to the group. “You just want rich people to fuck.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that.” He snorted.

“They could be so much more than this, Klaus.”

“Are we talking about a specific someone here, mein bruder? Because I am feeling too much passion defending the honor of people you were laughing at months ago,” he said, and Ben. blushed. He _literally blushed._ How a ghost could do that, he had no idea. Ben, his innocent baby brother blushed because of _someone_ for the _first time ever,_ oh my god.

“You got a crush. Oh, my god. You got a _crush_ ! What is it about the sixties that we all Hargreeves get crushes here?! Can you imagine if we find one of the others _married?_ Can you imagine _Luther_ married?! Or like, Five all grown up and hot, with kids and a human wife?” Ben gave him an unimpressive look, “What? If you get a crush, anything can happen.”

“I don’t have a crush, don’t be an idiot!”

“Then why do you get so upset about some poor bastard’s life decisions? Why do you care?”

“I just- I like her, ok?” Ben confessed, putting his hood on and hiding his hands deep in his pockets. “She doesn't deserve to get trapped here.”

“Hey, their decision, not mine. Also, nobody is _trapped,_ Ben, what the fuck. Anyway, that wasn’t what I meant. I was serious about the counterculture movement…” he said, a flash of all the young men the war took, especially one, appeared in his mind. If just all this leads to saving _just the one,_ it all will be worth it _._ “We know how oppressive the sixties were- _are_ , especially with queer and nonwhite people, so maybe we could, I don’t know, help a little, put a bit of love and tolerance in the world?”

“You’re seriously considering humoring them into a cult, Klaus? Because that is where this is leading. Today? _Big_ red flag.” Ben looked at him in disbelief, “Jesus, ok, let’s ignore the whole cult part and the timeline issues for now. If you do this, it would be a _responsibility_. Are you sure you want that?”

“What responsibility, Ben? I just have to be there and that’s it.” Ben looked at him with a raised eyebrow as saying _exactly!_ Klaus added, “And hey, not a cult, Ben! That’s too negative. We’re not going all Manson or Scientology here. Just…an… alternative spiritual community, perhaps.”

“Fucking Christ. This is gonna snowball and when that happens, you will _not_ come to me to cry about it.”

And snowball it did, awfully quickly too. They returned to Dallas by the end of July, Dorothy welcomed him with a lovely dinner and was over the moon when he told her all about their journey. The parties continued, but were less and less in between the reunions Dorothy hosted with the group of followers (that in the following months grew to at least forty people) who now weren’t interested so much in his abilities as they were a year ago but what he had to _say_. Wasn’t that a marvel? The only other time his opinion mattered was in Vietnam, when he was able to guide his platoon for the safest routes in the jungle the times his stash grew smaller and he had to ultra ration it. Apparently all it took to people taking him seriously was time travel to the sixties. No wonder his family wasn’t there.

Then again, the sixties were _wild._

And he tried, he really tried to not let his ego win and give good _teachings_ to his followers, to do some kind of activism. But these people became _needy_ and _clingy._ At the end of the year, after they came to him all dressing the same, parroting what he said but without _getting_ it (maybe he was being a bit unfair there. The people were good, and they were more open minded than most, but they created a bubble around them, so what did it matter? The world was still the same scary ugly place it was when he first arrived here and all those soldiers were going to die anyway for nothing and he did _nothing nothing nothing_ to prevent _his_ death) and _touching touching touching_ him as if he was some sacred thing. 

These people were getting worse than the ghosts with their desperate attention seeking. At least the ghosts couldn’t touch him without him feeding them power.

He didn’t get it, really. He talked about love no matter the person’s skin color, class, gender or nationality, about pursuing what makes you happy, about communicating with other people (Ben gave him the time of the day cackling at the hypocrisy of him preaching about communication), about safe sex practices, about _consent._ And yet. And yet they didn’t stop. Not at his forced smile and flinching and grimaces. He wasn’t being subtle, so what the fuck was the problem?

In January, Dorothy wanted to travel with the group too. Go to India, bathe in some holy river or something. She wasn’t taking a no for answer, so they went even if he didn’t want to. Klaus definitely didn’t go to Ben to cry ~~bitch~~ about it.

In February, two years since they arrived in this decade and newly returned from Asia, Klaus arrived at Dorothy’s home to find the most world shaking news of all, and that’s coming from the guy who time travel twice and escape a fucking apocalypse caused by his own family.

The maid who came to greet them and help them with their bags didn’t leave when she was finished with her duty. Instead, she didn’t stop looking at Dorothy and Klaus with an anxious aura around her. 

“What’s the matter, Rosa?” Dorothy finally asked, without her usual kindness. The travel must have tired her down more than she let on.

“You see, Mrs. Walter, a few days ago… an old lady came by and… she came to see Master Klaus.”

“Moi?” He asked, confused. “What could a lady want with me? I already have dear Dorothy!” he joked. The woman gave him an amused smile.

“She left something for you.”

“Could you please cut the chase, Roro? I am in need of my beauty sleep and I am not getting whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

“Just… Maritza, bring the boy, please!” She said louder in the direction of the next room. Klaus stood still.

“The boy? There’s a boy? Where?” He heard the underline panic on his voice crystal clear behind his eagerness to be right in his guess.

“Klaus, do you think..?” Ben trailed off, probably thinking the same; a picture of Five in such bad shape that he decided (if he had a choice in the first place) to wait for Ben and Klaus here instead of teleporting his ass to Asia (admittedly not the most logical option), unable to announce his presence by himself, in need of being carried over here by an old woman, of all people! Well, he can thank the woman later, after he makes sure his little older brother is breathing and _okay._

Martiza came before Rosa could answer, breaking any further conversation or line of thought. She was carrying a white bulge in her arms. Without saying anything, she stood in front of Klaus and carefully showed him the softest looking face he had ever seen. Absently he noticed Ben was looking over his shoulder too. Neither of them said a thing.

Not Five.

A baby.

There was a fucking baby in the blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you can, leave a comment, you will make this author very happy! I would love to hear what you thought! Be safe <3


	2. Me? A... a parent?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Thanks you all for your lovely comments and kudos! They mean a lot to me, I am so glad you're enjoying this story!! Shout out again to my lovely beta [knifecatklaus](https://knifecatklaus.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> Hope you like this chapter too!

It was funny how fate worked.

Klaus had been sober from hard drugs for two years now (and almost one for alcohol). If there was a time to accidentally knock someone up, it definitely would have been in his twenties when he was livin’ la vida loca with almost no care in the world for the consequences of his actions. The permanent high, which made him unable to remember a decent majority of the things he lived that decade, would surely have been a perfect alibi for leaving Little Klauses all around the city.

Then, high (conscious) Klaus was adamant about using protection, though. Kudos for him, at least, although that was one of the only good things he could say about himself from that time. It also helped that he’d found himself dealing more frequently with dicks than vaginas, he supposed. Statistics and all that. 

But no. Of course no. He should be grateful, in a way. If there was a time for the little girl on the bike to decide he would reproduce (and be aware of it happening), now was the best bet for the little guy. He has a roof over his head, food on his table, a stable job (kind of) and income, and most importantly,  _ he’d been sober for two years _ .

His life was as good as it was gonna get.

It was considerate of the little girl to choose this time of his life if it was  _ meant _ to happen. If he was being honest, he couldn’t picture a twenty-something Klaus sobering up for a baby, so who knows what would have happened to them. Maybe one of his siblings would have taken them from him to raise them… or maybe social services. He saw that happen many times with some of his street acquaintances over the years.

Was it even his? Was he a bad person for asking that? But the little guy didn’t have anyone else - did it really matter if the kid was his?

He scoffed internally at the thought.  _ Of course  _ it mattered, he wasn’t a fucking saint, or even a good person. He was selfish, apathetic and irresponsible. He couldn’t go around adopting orphan kids. He wasn’t a saint... or Reginald. He was somewhere there, in between. Which wasn’t very precise or helpful, as the spectrum was alarmingly large.

Were DNA tests a thing yet? 

“The woman said you met her daughter last year; her name was Gabrielle.” The very Latin American accent of Maritza cut his thoughts. He realized he was staring at the baby and yet had to say something. He vaguely wondered what Dorothy was thinking. Would she throw him out now? 

“Gabrielle?” he repeated.

“Yes, she said you met in a bar?”

He remembers Gabrielle. She was the first person he had been with after Dave. He’d been horny and heartbroken, about half a year had passed since Dave died in his arms. Grief and touch starvation drove him to a bar downtown, looking for… something, he didn’t know what. Usually, he would pop a pill and numb the pain away, wake up next morning with a stranger at his side, less horny than before. Probably more heartbroken.

He didn’t feel like doing that anymore. Dave deserved better. Damn,  _ he _ deserved better. Dave taught him that much.

So he went looking for a distraction. He didn’t know what or who or where he would find it, he just looked.

The first time he went to the bar, he didn’t do more than people watching from a table, nursing a drink in his hand. It made him laugh, thinking how he was acting more like a ghost than a person in a place that would have been his scene not long ago. The second time he went, she chatted him up sitting at the bar. It took a few drinks for him to open up, but then she opened up, and they both ended crying, drunk and  _ so, so sad. _ It was just that. Just two souls talking about young loves lost forever to unfair greedy wars.

The third time they crossed paths in the same bar, around October of 1960, they found themselves in her motel room, grabbing each other with the desperation born of pure loneliness and a deep lack of affection. She was the perfect option for him to be doing this, he remembered thinking. She was so physically different to Dave, just the right amount to not make him get fixed in the difference and being constantly remained that  _ he was having sex with someone who wasn’t Dave. _ She was very petite and had beautiful dark hair, curled in soft waves that reached her hips, usually decorated with a colorful headband scarf, and she had a pair of big hazel eyes with a profound understanding that Klaus desperately needed.

Their encounters repeated about six more times in the months after, and then Klaus went to Mexico in April and didn’t see her anymore. He assumed she’d returned to her city after finishing the work she was doing in Dallas, and a part of him lamented not paying attention when she told him where she was from or how to keep in touch. There had been a lot of potential to form a real, durable friendship, and God knew he was short on those.

“Yeah… yeah I remember her. What… how?”

He thinks he is in shock, not that anybody could blame him. He was just thinking of ghosting his cult and now there was a  _ baby _ , what the fuck would he do with a baby, what are these people thinking-

“Her mother, she came here to give us the baby, she told us Gabrielle couldn’t find you before the baby was born, then when she found you in a pamphlet there was an accident and… and well, she passed away.”

“What- she…” he let out an incredulous laugh. “Are you kidding me, Mari? Is this a welcome prank? Because it is hilarious and I love your commitment to it but I would love if you’d just admit your victory and just—stop it, ok?”

“It’s not a prank, I’m sorry, your friend got hit by a car and her mother was already ill and couldn’t take care of the little one anymore. So she brought him here.”

“Do you have the address or name of this lady?” Dorothy asked, suspicious. 

“Just her name. She— she let him outside the door when we told her you weren’t here. She looked really bad, Mrs. Walter. I doubt she’ll make it for too much longer.”

“Does he have a name?” Ben asked, startling Klaus who almost forgot he was there. And yeah, wasn’t that a bad question.

“Did she tell you his name?”

“She said his mother named him Nathaniel. She thought it would mean something for you?”

Klaus felt the little air he had in his lungs escape, and some choked sound came out of his throat. Nathaniel. That was the name Dave had told him he wanted to name his kid one day, that one night in the jungle when they first daydreamed about their future. How did Gabrielle remember that? He didn’t even remember her boyfriend’s name or her last name, for fuck’s sake!

“I’m—I’m going for a walk, can you look after him a bit longer? Thank you, Mari,” he said without waiting for a reply, almost running out the door. 

He ignored Dorothy and Maritza’s calls, and took to the streets. He didn’t stop walking until he was in a park nearby. Ben was at his side, having followed him silently. Klaus supposed he was in shock too. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t meant to affect the timeline much, and now he had a kid?! Was it even his kid?! And how the fuck was he, former junkie whore, current cult leader, supposed to take care of a child?! An actual child, 24/7. Not some street kid who he gave some food and looked out for when the night found them in the same alley or shelter. This was a  _ full time job with him as the only employee and how the fuck was he supposed to do this alone, what the fuck, what the fuck-  _

His chest was burning. Why was his chest burning? He couldn’t see right, everything was blurry and his chest was burning and the air was hot and his head felt weird and –

“Klaus, breathe.”

What now?

“In and out. Come on. Do it with me,” Ben said. Somewhere, there was a lukewarm pressure on his chest and on his hand. The pressure on his chest moved in circles. The one on his hand moved it to put it somewhere else. Hands. They were hands. Ben’ hands and Ben’s voice and Ben’s chest, moving up and down under his own palm. It was soothing. He opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – and looked directly into the dark brown of his brother’s eyes. He kept them there while Ben kept talking, saying the same over and over.

“Come on, in and out. Don’t stop.” He imitated Ben’s movement, trying to get the air into his lungs and control his thoughts to not  _ panic, he can’t panic anymore, he is A Parent now, he can’t panic he has to be responsible holy shit what the universe is thinking-  _ “Klaus, breathe!” Ben said with urgency in his voice. 

Oh right. He was having a panic attack. He knew the drill.

He focused on what his skin was feeling under his palm. The continual movement of his brother’s chest, the metronomic rhythm of every breath. The hardness of the leather from his jacket, the unchangeable smell of his skin and clothes, the feeling of the wind blowing his hair and the birds singing in the tree nearby. He let all his senses ground him.

“Ok, I think you’re ok now,” Ben declared some time later, but didn’t let go. Instead, he changed the rhythmic caress from his chest to his back. He focused on that.

He did feel better. He felt more grounded. His lungs weren’t burning anymore, even if his breathing was still a little shaky. He walked to a bench and sat down, spreading his body using half of the space available, feeling a sudden fatigue. His palms found their way to his face, shielding it from the warm rays of light that the afternoon sun provided. Klaus felt Ben sit down next to him.

“What am I going to do, Ben? Me? A… a  _ parent?!  _ What the hell?”

Ben didn’t answer. Klaus risked a peek at his brother and saw him frowning at the floor, hands deep in his pockets. He seemed to be chewing a difficult line of thought that he didn’t particularly like.

“Are you sure it's yours?” he said eventually.

So he wasn’t the only one wondering that.

“I don’t know…. I mean. He could be? I hooked up with Gabrielle a few times, those times I went out the first year we were here, remember?”

“I remember getting angry at you for risking your sobriety and refusing to join you in your bender.”

“Well, maybe if you wouldn’t be such a stubborn bastard we wouldn’t be in this situation, Ben!” Klaus barked, uncovering his face to show a heated look directed at his brother.

“So now is my fault you can’t keep it in your pants?!” Ben asked, crossing his arms with  _ another  _ frown, the indignation transparent in the tone of his voice.

“No, but-  _ Ugh _ .”

They went silent for a few minutes. Both frustrated at each other, looking stubbornly in different directions. Then Klaus gave up with a soft sigh. 

“I was sad, ok? I was sad and horny, which is like the worst combination ever. Only topped by  _ bored, _ sad and horny. Maybe I was a bit bored too…” He trailed off, looking pensive, then waved the thought away with his hand. “Anyhoo, it’d been months since Dave and… I don’t know.” He sighed again. “I just needed to get out of my head, I guess. Gabrielle was going for something similar, she lost his boyfriend in Korea. Almost a decade, Ben. It has been so many years for her and she still… she still was grieving and missing him and  _ loving him _ . What fucking hope do  _ I  _ have?”

Ben just gave him a sad look.

“It was comfort. And we weren’t wasted. Not like I’ve been before, at least. We used protection, I swear. But those things fail sometimes, I guess.”

“So you’re accepting him.”

“No, nope. I'm just saying that… accidents happen. That doesn’t mean  _ that _ accident is mine.”

“How are you gonna tell, then? DNA tests aren’t available for two more decades at least.”

Mhm. There went that question, then.

“How the fuck do you know that, Ben? What are you, Wikipedia?”

Ben snorted at that.

“What do you think Dorothy is gonna do with all this?” Ben asked instead.

“I don’t know… I guess… It depends on what happens with the kid?”

“What is gonna happen with the kid?”

And wasn’t that the question. 

“I think he looks like you,” Ben said when it was clear that Klaus wasn’t going to answer. Klaus gave him an incredulous stare, eyebrows raised and his eyes opened more to take a better look at his brother’s face.

“Pray tell, Benerino, how the hell did you notice that? He was just… a pink bulge of softness and baby fat burrito.”

“His nose. It looked a bit like yours.”

“Right,  _ his nose, _ ” Klaus mocked him, rolling his eyes. _ “ _ He’s a fucking baby, Ben. He’s too tiny to look like anyone yet.”

“And he has your face’s shape,” Ben continued as if Klaus hadn't interrupted. 

He knew what Ben was trying to do, and he wasn’t sure if it was working or not. His head felt all messed up and turned upside down, unable to make a decision of any kind.

“Tell me what to do,” he finally said. He knew what Ben wanted, he had known since Ben died and none of their siblings had believed Klaus when he’d told them about his new ghostly existence, cursing Ben to a solitary and pointless non-life non-death limbo. He also knew that between the two of them, Ben was the one with the most common sense and empathy to other non-Klaus beings. He usually hated listening to his brother, rarely doing it just for that pretty reason, yet in that moment Klaus felt he would take whatever his brother says at face value and go with it.

“I can’t tell you that, Klaus,” Ben said, frowning. Again. 

“Come ooooon,” Klaus whined, stretching out the last syllable for a few seconds. “You  _ love  _ to tell me what to do, all the time! You’re always  _ Klaus, don’t do this, Klaus do this, but not like that!  _ I can’t take a piss without you nitpicking at my aim!”

“Oh shut up! Without me, you’d be dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Ben rolled his eyes and suppressed a sigh.

“I can’t tell you what to do here, Klaus,” he repeated. “This has to be  _ your  _ decision and yours alone. He would be your responsibility, and you can’t ditch him whenever you get bored.”

“You want to keep him.” He said it before he could stop himself. Why did he say that? Now if Ben says that yes, obviously he wants to be with his  possible nephew and only family besides his atrocious brother, Klaus will be an asshole if he keeps them apart.

There was a long pause where Ben didn’t meet Klaus’ eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, does it?” Ben finally said, a defeated tone in his voice, eyes fixed in the soil between his boots. 

Klaus felt an ounce of remorse for not arguing Ben’s statement, even though he agreed with it 100%.

***

They went back to the mansion about an hour later. They found Dorothy waiting for him in the living room, drinking tea. There was no sign of the baby and some part of him panicked - surely Dorothy wouldn’t be so cold as to take the baby to a… orphanage or something without waiting for him first?

Ben just needed to take a look at his face to know what he was thinking.

“I’m gonna check on Nathaniel,” he told him before he disappeared – god, it hurt to hear that name. It wasn’t fair, if someone was having a kid to name him Nathaniel it shouldn’t be him _ ,  _ he didn’t deserve it,  _ Dave did but he’s gonegonegone.  _

Ben came back at the same time Dorothy spotted him at the foyer. 

“Maritza is with him in your room,” Ben informed him.

That was good, right? He hadn’t lost him as he had initially feared, and he even felt relieved knowing the boy was in his room. That’s a point to the _keep him_ section of the mental columns he totally should write down, titled _what the hell do you do with an unexpected baby?_ The irony of the situation didn’t escape him, that once upon a time, he too had been a _very very_ unexpected baby to a _very_ surprised mother (at least he didn’t go into _fucking labor_ for this baby). He didn't think he needed to add the option “sell him” to the columns, though.

He sat down and accepted the tea cup Dorothy gave him. She let him sip the tea a few times before addressing the elephant in the room.

“So, Klaus dear, tell me. What’s your plan?” He could tell Dorothy wasn’t too keen on Nathaniel's presence. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning confusion, his eyebrows knitted together. He even paused in his drinking, cup suspended midair. He already knew what she meant. She didn’t want the baby here or at the very least, was uncomfortable with having him around. What he didn't know was what she was going to do - or allow  _ him  _ to do - while still supporting him.

“What are you going to do with this baby boy, of course! What have you decided, on your walk?”

Dorothy wasn’t a bad person. Yes, she was a woman of her time and that could be a little old fashioned for him and what he was trying to do with the cult, but she had an open mind, willing to learn and surprisingly, she respected him. That’s a lot more that he could say about other people in the twenty-first century. 

That didn’t ease the fact that she clearly didn’t want to break their status quo but equally didn’t want to tell him.

“I truly don’t know,” he said with sincerity, for once. “I don’t really have a choice, do I? He doesn’t have any family left and I am not leaving him in an orphanage by himself.”

“Oh, but dear! If that’s what worries you, we can find him a lovely family who would love to have him. I always listen to Margaret going on and on and on in our Saturday teas about this institution her family runs for children without a home. I can put a good word with her so it doesn’t take too long to find a home for him.”

He tilted his head to the side, stunned at the simplistic solution his sponsor was giving him. He didn’t know how to feel about that, the already short mental columns trembling at their sudden lack of purpose. He could do that, right? It was simple. Nobody would blame him, right? (Well, maybe Ben… or maybe not. He wasn’t sure). He could make sure the people the kid went to were a good family. That was already better than what his birth mother did for him. 

It was tempting. It did make sense. Firstly, because there was a possibility that the kid wasn’t his. Secondly, well… he was  _ Klaus _ .

He could tell Dorothy knew he was considering it by the shining hope in her eyes. He gave her a tentative smile.

“That sounds reasonable,” he agreed, nodding at her. He took another sip of his tea. It was lukewarm. “I’ll think about it, dear.”

Dorothy smiled at that, looking satisfied for the time being. They finished their cup and Klaus excused himself to go to his room, Ben next to him. He was giving him an uncertain look but didn’t break the silence. 

***

His room was empty, but a cot and a little bag were left by his bed. He looked at Ben and his brother shrugged, walking out of the room.

They found the baby in the kitchen, five minutes later. Maritza was about to feed Nathaniel when she spotted him at the door frame. There were seconds of awkward silence before Maritza raised the bottle in his direction, in a clear silent question. Klaus went to take the bottle off her and looked at the baby in her arms. The milk was warm, he absently noticed.

“What am I —What do I do?”

“Sit,” she said, pointing with her free hand at the chair next to the table. In an afterthought, Klaus left the bottle on the table near to him before taking his seat. After he sat, Maritza didn’t wait a second to put Nathaniel in Klaus’ arms. The sudden added weight made him panic, and his face must have shown it because Maritza laughed loudly. 

“Put your arm like this, mijo,” she said, taking Klaus’ left arm and passing it behind the baby’s head until his hand went around him, holding most of his tiny body. “Now you just put the bottle like this and...” The woman demonstrated, and soon enough, Nathaniel was sucking at the bottle. “École! Not so hard, mm? You’re a natural,” she praised before walking away to do the dishes or something. He wasn’t paying her attention anymore.

Instead, he watched as Nathaniel greedily drank half the bottle, Ben right next to his side, a hungry look in his face he rarely saw on him anymore. It reminded him of the times Ben got a new book to read when he was alive, unable to stop reading it in any free training and class time, including meal times. It was a nostalgic view, a glimpse of the brother he had in life, and a familiar twisted sensation of guilt he fought to push down creeped in his brain. 

He should get Ben more books, he decided, now that he can grab things. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that before. Dorothy’s literature wasn’t so exciting to him, Ben had interrupted his yoga enough times just to complain about the lack of classics or anything that wasn’t about spirits and falses afterlifes for Klaus to get the message. 

When the baby was done, both watched how Maritza took him and expertly burped him against her shoulder. He vaguely remembered that she’d told him once that she had four children and a bunch of young great children scattered between Texas and Monterrey. Or perhaps it was Guadalajara, or Guatemala. He should ask her again.

“You need to do that every time he eats, ok?” Klaus nodded, watching them. The whole thing felt totally surreal.

He had a baby. A breathing one. A living, breathing one. Not a Nenuco like the one he and Allison used to play with when they were little (they stopped playing after Allison got mad at him for drawing flowers all over the doll’s arms with different colors. He’d just wanted to make it prettier!). A real, living, breathing one.

He had a baby. 

He wasn’t supposed to be responsible for a baby, he was the homeless, useless junkie, the disappointment of the family. Allison, yes. Vanya, yeah sure, end of the world aside, she was a decent person who could hold an honest job. Even Luther – or Diego in that forgotten ‘apartment’ of his with his vigilante routine. Any of his siblings would have been a better candidate to take care of an infant. Anyone but him. Well, anyone but him and maybe Five, he couldn’t imagine the old man slowing down enough to take care of a baby full-time.

But the thing was, none of his siblings were here. Maybe none of them were even alive. At the moment, he and Ben were the only thing this kid has.

What a poor sucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your thoughts, so if you wanna share, I am all ears! Have a lovely week and be safe, beautiful people <3 
> 
> The few things that needs translation:   
> When Maritza calls Klaus "mijo", she literally means "my son" or "my boy".   
> "École" means "Exactly".


	3. The decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo, it's been a month, sorry it took so long, and sorry in advance for the next chapter that also will take a while, I hope not so long like this one, but i don't wanna make any promises. Thanks you so much to all the people who had bookmarked and leave kudos and comments <3 you're the best!! Thanks again to my wonderful beta <3
> 
> This chapter we'll have some of Ben's POV, which was a nice change I enjoyed to write, hope you like it!!

The next two days were a blur. Maritza quickly became Nathanial’s unofficial nanny and took it as her duty to teach Klaus everything he might need on a daily basis: how to hold him, how to change a diaper, how to prepare a bottle of milk, how to burp him, how to bathe him, how to dress him, how to put him to sleep. She even taught him a few Spanish lullabies. She became his parent guru, and Klaus liked to tell her that, repeatedly. She brushed him off with a laugh every time it happened.

She told him Nathaniel arrived at the house just two days before he and Dorothy came back and that according to the birth certificate attached to the cot and tiny bag, he was born on September 28th of 1961. She also told him that his middle name was Joseph. He wondered if that was the name of Gabrielle’s boyfriend (he knew she told him but for the life of him he couldn’t remember). It was a shame he didn’t know; it would be a nice thing to tell the little bean when he was older. 

He tried to summon Gabrielle the day after Nathaniel arrived to his life, but he couldn’t. Either he had to keep training, or she had already moved on to be with her boyfriend, which was just _rude_. Stay tuned to see if your child is well taken care of before leaving, where are your manners?

She also showed him a note. 

“It was next to the certificate,” Maritza told him. 

It was a simple note, written on a beautiful but shaky handwriting. It just said: 

_It breaks my heart to leave my only grandson at your door as if he were the milk delivery, but I don’t have the time to wait for you, Klaus. I’m dying, I need to go back to the hospital as soon as possible and there is no one else who I can ask. Please, please, take care of him and tell him his mom and grandma love him until the end._

_Regards,_

_Marie Julienne Lambert_

A wave of feelings hit him cold and expanded in his chest, freezing his insides at the trust this woman was putting on him. _Him._ She must know about him, right? His fraudulent lifestyle? They’d found a pamphlet, Maritza had said. There was no way a sane person could believe he was a real prophet. And yet she thought he was a fine option and begged him to take care of her only grandson. Maybe she wasn’t a sane person after all. Maybe she was a desperate old, sick woman doing her last Hail Mary. A Hail Mary he was thinking of brushing aside.

_Guilt._

He was feeling guilt.

And maybe remorse. But mostly guilt. He was familiar with guilt, he felt it every time he allowed himself to reflect on his brother’s ghosthood and his role in it. He knew how to recognize it and how to fold it up easily inside a little nice box and put it in the back of his mind where he could ignore it and carry on as if nothing was out of place. 

He realized that, this time around, ignoring it was becoming a difficult task. 

*******

The note sat in his nightstand for three nights before he put it away next to the certificate with a sigh.

“I’m nuts,” he whispered, fingers caressing the dog tags tenderly, eyes fixed on the baby’s name. “But you liked that about me, didn’t you?” 

He just hoped this wouldn’t be added to his endless list of awful life decisions.

*******

One week went by before Dorothy brought up the matter to Klaus again. It took her longer than he’d expected, to be honest. 

“So. Have you given a thought to what you're going to do? Do I need to talk to Margaret?”

She must have seen his answer in his face before he got a chance to voice it, because she sighed resignedly. Klaus nodded all the same.

“I’m keeping him. At least… at least for now.”

“But dear, how are we going to run our meetings with you taking care of a kid? You’re too important to be occupied like that!” 

Klaus shook his head.

“You’re the soul of this movement, Klaus!” He internally cringed at that.

“I am really not, Dory. My teachings are, and you can do that without me always being here. I’m sorry, Dorothy, but… he needs me more right now.”

“Are you sure, dear? It’s a big decision, children don't take breaks and you’re all _alone_.” It sounded mean, but Klaus knew she was telling him that not from some hidden malice, but out of genuine concern. “Raising a fatherless child is difficult, I can’t imagine what it must be like to raise a motherless one! No one is going to blame you if you decide otherwise.” 

“Yeah, Dory, I’m sure,” he said, hoping the uncertainty didn’t soak his words. 

She obviously wasn’t content by his decision, but chose not to raise any more disagreement. It didn’t matter, Klaus knew his time there was numbered. Not because Dorothy would throw them out any time soon, he could tell now how her concern for him weighed more than any inconvenience to the dynamic of the cult Nathaniel could present, but because he himself was tired of them. Plus, Klaus _really_ didn’t want the influence of the cult near the baby.

The last thing he needed right now was a euphoria for the gift of a blessed child.

*******

Another week passed by. 

If Klaus had to reflect on how these last two weeks had been… he would say they were _fucking weird_.

He had no idea what he was doing (and he was always so goddammit _tired)_. Ben had no idea what he was doing, even when he tried to pretend like he did. Both of them were acting like a couple of first-time parents fussing over their newborn, which, to be fair, they were. 

The thing is… Klaus was the _most tired_ he had ever been in a long time. How did normal people do this every day without chemical assistance of some kind (not counting coffee)? No wonder Daddy dearest hired a bunch of nannies before finally building Mom. Oh, Mom, what wouldn’t he give to have her right now? Although Maritza had been an angel in this whole mess, so he couldn’t really complain.

He still felt like he was living in a daydream. Nathaniel was _cute_ , he had an adorable little laugh that ran free every time Klaus tickled his tummy singing Itsy Bitsy Spider (the only nursery rhyme he remembered, he would never tell Maritza but he didn’t memorize any of the lullabies she’d taught him) and when he kissed or blew tiny raspberries on his check. He loved when he put the radio on to some jazz or rock station and he always fell asleep faster when Klaus sang Nina Simone as a lullaby replacement. He’d give the widest smile when Klaus sang to him in funny voices, songs by Queen, the oldies of Panic! At the Disco, Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys (the last ones just to tease Ben).

He also loved his baths before bed and was fascinated by the color green. He could get fixated on something shiny and green and spend long minutes staring in silence.

On the other hand, he was _awful_. Who knew babies could be so complicated and disgusting?

He still refused to be in charge of diaper duty, which he happily delegated to Maritza for the time being, which she accepted under the condition that he _watches every time_ so he could learn to do it by himself. He was pretty sure Maritza knew he would never let her know when that happened, yet every time she changed the diaper she’d say “ _última vez, mijo, you need to learn”_.

At night, Nathaniel just didn’t _stop_ _crying_. He hadn’t slept a whole night for weeks. He was just grateful Dorothy’s room was so far away from Nathaniel’s, keeping her from being disturbed by the crying.

“Debe echar de menos a sus mamitas,” Maritza said sadly to herself, after a week of interrupted sleep. “He was the same with me before you came back from Asia.”

The only way both of them could get some rest was with Nathaniel sleeping in Klaus’ arms, nose deep in his neck. It was uncomfortable and Klaus’ back was _sore_ and he was so afraid of dropping him that he’d wake up at the slightest movement. He also thought it might not be the healthiest for both of them in the long run. But what else could he do? Leave him in his cot screaming his lungs out without anyone to come and see what was the matter? He wouldn’t wish a childhood like his to any other human being, so he picked him up and cuddled with him in the armchair, covered with the warmest and comfiest blanket he had in the room.

Ben didn’t say anything against this development (he even caught him smiling at them a few times, the sappy idiot), so he guessed he was doing something right.

*******

Three weeks after he and Dorothy came back from their trip, she approached him with a piece of paper in hand. He was in the kitchen with Ben making Nathaniel his lunch bottle, trying to keep the milk from getting lumpy, which was harder than he possibly could have expected (he always needs to use a strainer in the end). 

“I took the liberty of looking up for Marie Lambert. I know, I know you didn’t ask me!” she said at the confusion that must have been visible on his face. “And this isn’t some kind of plot to make you change your decision, dear.”

She gave him the paper, he put down the bottle he was shaking on the table next to him and grabbed it. It said Marie’s name, a hospital’s name and two addresses. 

“You said the woman is dying and well... I can understand a mother, if that were me, I would like to know my child is going to be well. So I looked up for her, and I found her address. It took a while, I know, it turned out the woman didn’t even live in the city! So… you can do whatever you want with it. I just want you to have it.”

To say he was speechless was an understatement. The idea of facing Marie made his stomach feel weird and heavy. And guilty again, because Dorothy had a point and he hadn’t even thought of trying to find this woman who was at death’s door to give her a peaceful passing. 

In his defense, neither had Ben.

Dorothy was out of the door before he could say anything in return.

“Dude, the milk,” Ben reminded him.

He finished the milk and they returned to Klaus’ room, where Nathaniel was waiting for them. Of course, Ben didn’t wait more than a minute to voice his opinion.

“I think you should go to see her,” he said, sitting on the armchair.

That statement set stones on Klaus’ chest. He ignored Ben by taking Nathaniel from his cot where he was silently watching his hanging mobile. He looked at Ben pointedly, and Ben with a roll of his eyes got up off the chair and walked over the window. Klaus didn’t even try to suppress a smirk. 

“You know this is the feeding chair now,” he retorted, feeling a hit of joy in dethroning his brother from what had become Ben reading’s chair. He sat down and positioned the baby in his lap. Ben looked out of the window for a moment while Klaus started feeding Nathaniel the bottle.

“I think you should go to see her,” he repeated, as if that would make it happen more quickly. 

“Did you see where she lives?!” he replied, realizing there was no way out of this conversation. “New Orleans, Ben! Do you want me to go all the way to New Orleans? Why?”

Ben sighed, as if the question was the stupidest thing he ever heard in his existence, and that alone was outstanding since he had been around Klaus for his whole existence.

“She is dying, Klaus,” he explained, as if Klaus was a very dumb child, “And she doesn’t have anyone with her.”

“How do you know that? She might have a boyfriend around, sitting at her bedside taking her hand.”

“She doesn’t. She doesn’t have anyone, what other reason could be to her travelling all the way here, alone and sick, if she could leave Nathaniel with someone else? She told you, he doesn’t have anyone else but _you_.” He pronounced the last sentence with a careful diction, doing the thing with his eyes and eyebrows he always did when trying to convince Klaus of something Very Important. 

“Yeah, well maybe she meant that in a raising him way, not babysitting.” He shrugged, then let out a yell of pain. Nathaniel had stopped drinking the milk to pull a lock of Klaus’ hair. Ben barked a laugh.

“See? He agrees with me!”

“Bad baby,” he muttered at Nathaniel, rubbing the lower side of his head with his right shoulder.

“He is not a bad baby, he wants his grandma to die in peace.”

“Would you drop it, Ben?!”

“No. I won’t,” he said seriously, all traces of laughter gone. “That woman is alone, Klaus, and as the only grandma the kid's gonna have, she deserves to see him again before she dies.”

“Do they even let babies in that side of the hospital?” he asked, returning to feeding Nathaniel.

“I guess so.” 

“You guess so,” he mocked. “If I go all the way there for nothing, you’re gonna regret it, Ben.”

*******

Ben let the issue of Marie drop for the rest of the day and the night, but next day, he didn’t even wait for Klaus to leave the room for breakfast to start the planning. Which was rude as hell, because Nathaniel again spent the night crying and Klaus needed one or two cups of coffee before he could function at his standard, slightly below average level. 

“So I was thinking we should take the bus today if we want to be there tomorrow.” Klaus stopped dead, feeling like someone did a mortal jump in his stomach and ended up crashing on the floor. Ben, who seemed oblivious to the tumultuous anxiety Klaus could already feel creeping its way in, added, “and that got me thinking, we should try to buy a car, it’s more practical for Nathaniel than public transportation.” 

“Today?! Jesus, Ben isn’t that too soon?” 

“We need to get to the hospital soon. It's already been three weeks.”

“But…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his protests. The unpleasant feeling he’d got when that piece of paper fell in his hand had returned with force. He dropped his eyes and started playing with his dog tags. 

“What is the matter with you? I thought we agreed on this yesterday!” Ben said in an exasperated tone.

“I’m _fine!_ I’m just worried- What will we do with Nathaniel? We can’t take him to a hospital, surely that’s on every parenting guide. Germs and viruses. Nasty stuff.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at him.

“I know you’re lying, but you have a point. That’s why I thought we could leave him with Maritza, or take Maritza with us, whichever is easier for her.”

“Take a baby on a bus for seven hours? Christ, Ben, do you hate people that much?”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“Alright, so we leave him here and do a shorter trip. But we need to get moving, so pack a bag and go talk to Maritza.”

“Alright, alright! I’m moving!” he said, opening the door to go look for Maritza and tell her their plans for the day. Her room was not far away from his, so he took a moment before walking over there in the hopes of getting rid of the suffocating grip that had tightened around his lungs, making it more difficult to breathe. It was ridiculous, how the thought of facing this unknown woman was filling him with so much fear, indecision and anxiety. 

This woman was _dying._ And she was trusting _him_ with the most precious thing she had left in the world. And now Ben expected him to face the person responsible for putting him in this position and telling her to her face that yes, your child is gonna be ok, I’m in charge, your local fucked up cult leader! Don’t worry, go into the light! I am going to teach him and feed him and love him unconditionally for the rest of his life, which holy shit, that was going to be a long time, wasn’t it? He was going to promise a dying woman that he was up to the task at hand which was a _lie,_ he was barely standing up, the baby wouldn’t stop crying at nights because he wasn’t enough, of course he wasn’t enough, what was he thinking? He was _not up to the task! He was a disappointment. The greatest disappointment, Number Four._ And Ben was asking him to go to a hospital - a hospital full of ghosts, mind you! - to _lie to a dying woman to her face_ and tell her how great he would be fucking up her grandson. 

“Klaus? What are you still doing there? Go look for Maritza! We’re gonna be late!” Ben called from the door. Klaus looked up suddenly at him and Ben frowned in concern. “Klaus? Are you ok?”

“This is insane,” he finally said, a disbelieving tone in his voice. He walked back into the room leaving the door wide open.

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“This.” Klaus waved his arm around the air, gesticulating madly at the whole room around them.

“You mean the cult? Have you just realized that? I don’t know why they sought you for advice in the first place, let alone—”

“What? No, no that, jerk. This,” he pointed to the baby and then to the two of them, “Us, with a baby. What the fuck are we thinking, Ben? We aren’t even supposed to be here! And now I have a child to my name?!”

Ben gave him a deadpan look.

“It didn’t seem to matter to you very much us being here when you were traveling with your little cult across the world and giving them song lyrics disguised as _scriptures.”_

“Exactly! I’m a fraud! Who thought this was a good idea?!”

“You’re mixing apples with oranges,” Ben supplied unhelpfully with a scowl. What did it matter if he was making a freaking fruit salad? That didn’t change the absurdity of _him raising a baby_. 

“Maybe Dory is right; we should give him to that family she was talking about. It’s not too late. Marie will never know.”

“Klaus, you’re panicking, which is very normal. But you have to remember: you are doing fine. You can do this.”

“No. No. I am seeing the truth, finally. I mean. We were planning to leave this, but where will we go? And how? Dorothy is right, I _am alone_ and even with Maritza’s help I can’t barely function, I’m more sleep deprived than I have ever been in my life. _Me._ My head hurts all the time. How will I do this all by myself? How am I gonna support him? The money I got isn’t enough for me and a child! I’m gonna need a job. How I am supposed to raise him at the same time I work, uhm?! I can’t barely take care of myself, least alone a fucking baby! And now you expect me to go to a _dying woman to tell her everything is gonna be ok?!_ ”

“Klaus—”

“What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck were _you_ thinking? Letting me do this shit?”

“I didn’t _let_ you—”

“He caught you with his baby eyes and sweet laughter, didn’t he?! You’re weak! And now this baby is gonna be stuck with the worst father ever because you let me do this shit! You’re the sane one, what happened there, Ben?!”

“Klaus, shut up!” Ben said louder. It wasn’t a scream, but it was sharp and exasperated and cut straight through Klaus’ freaking out mind. It awakened Nathaniel from his sleep too. The baby’s whimpers grew to a full cry when neither of the adults went to pick him up, both brothers busy looking at each other in awe and uncertainty.

“Did he—” said both at the same time.

“Did he hear you?!” Klaus whispered, finally picking Nathaniel up to shush him.

“I… I don’t know! Are you making me full corporeal or something?!”

“No! You’re invisible and mute for anyone but me!”

“Then how—”

“Maybe it was a coincidence?” Ben looked at him unconvinced, arching an eyebrow. With the same expression, he clapped his hands just next to Nathaniel’ ears, making him flinch and cry louder once again. 

“You fucker! Stop making him cry!”

“Are you going to ignore the fact that he _can fucking hear me?!! For real?!!”_

“YES! We are _not_ dealing with that shit right now. Nein. Nope. Paso. I don’t need that. I just need to calm Nathaniel down and continue my freak out.”

“Klaus, you can’t seriously still be thinking about giving him to other people! It seems like he has powers, _your powers._ He will need you!”

“No, no, no. Because that means that on top of everything else that is already wrong with this whole situation, I passed on this curse to someone innocent and _I didn’t do that_. So, you’re wrong.”

“You’re unbelievable! Fine, keep yourself in denial! I’ll be back when you decide to be the grown up your son definitely needs you to be!”

And with that, Ben disappeared. It took Klaus fifteen minutes to calm Nathaniel down.

*******

It wasn’t so often that Ben disappeared these days. It was more usual in their old life, Ben getting so fed up of Klaus’ self-destruction and addiction that the need to escape (but not to _leave)_ was overwhelming and he took anywhere from an hour to a whole afternoon walking around the city, sitting in parks or going to the library to catch someone reading a new book he could peep on. Other days when he didn’t want to think about their reality, he would sneak into the theatre to see a movie, which was even better when Allison was on it.

But since arriving here and Klaus going sober and then traveling with the cult, their separations each time had become fewer and fewer. Things got better, and the need to escape his brother and his awful decisions decreased. 

Today was one of those days when he would disappear for hours, wandering around the city nonstop. 

The last three weeks had felt like a strange drug trip for him (or what he thought that must feel like, as he died before he was old enough to get high at an appropriate age). One more thing in the crazy long list of weird shit you see when you bond yourself to Klaus and try to Jiminy Cricket him into using some long lost brain cell whose priority was to satisfy basic _essential_ needs like _eating_ and _hydration_ (with _water, just because something is a liquid doesn’t mean it’ll hydrate you, Klaus, it actually does the opposite!)_ and you know, finding some shelter to _not freeze to death in the winter_.

Sure, a baby was a whole lot of weirdness, even for his brother, and it wasn’t odd for Ben to think the baby wasn’t going to stick around for very long, no matter how cute he was and how quickly he found himself getting attached to little Nathaniel. 

He had lost his chance of seeing his niece grow up back home (he hadn’t even got to meet her once, he would resent Klaus more than he did - he didn’t even try to get in contact with Allison! - if he wasn’t aware of Allison keeping her life and daugther away from all the Umbrella Academy members and not just her junkie brother), and now life was gifting him with a nephew and well… Forgive his lonely heart for being starved of any possible familial relationship. 

He had been waiting for another freak out, to be honest. He has seen it coming long before it happened. It was nothing but perfect timing for Nathaniel to reveal his unseen powers when he did, because Ben was sure he couldn’t have convinced Klaus to keep him, not if Dorothy was giving him such a tempting get-out-of-jail-free card, and not when Klaus was allowing himself to be dragged to the _I am a worthless person who can’t maintain nice things so I’ll stop trying all together and act like I don’t really want them in the first place_ route. Throwing himself at it, even, with self-deprecation, lack of confidence and awfully low self-esteem. 

Nothing new, really. Ben has seen Klaus walk that path countless times, enough for him to know that there was nothing he could do or say to make his brother change his mind. That didn’t mean he didn’t try, though. 

In Ben’s opinion, Klaus deep down was a caring soul corrupted by being forced to survive his day to day through apathy and selfishness since pretty early in their childhood, in the hopes to make it sane (kind of) into adulthood, and as the primary observer of his brother's life, he had firsthand evidence that habits are heavier than whatever kindness was left in Klaus' heart. He had seen glimpses of it through the years, enough for him to know it was still _there_ , glimmers of empathy for a hungry child, for a stray animal seeking warmth in the night, for a crying brother who wanted to take a page of his book and soak himself in comfortable numbness to cope with life changing revelations…

But Klaus has learnt long ago to shift his default settings to something more suitable to his lifestyle. And the shift stayed there, becoming almost a permanent fitting, long enough to get rusted. 

So how could this child possibly fit into all of this? 

Surely living with a former junkie whose paycheck came from conning rich people with no support system beyond a dead brother who sometimes was corporeal enough to intervene in the physical plane of the world would not be the best option. If you read that on paper, no social worker would allow Klaus a child. Or... they would do it _only_ if he made a commitment and was willing to agree to visitation and therapy and all the process that Ben didn’t really know about (because social services never bothered to knock the door in the Hargreeves Mansion to see if these public victims of fucking _child endangerment_ were _okay,_ even after one of them has _disappeared)._

And wasn’t that the crux of the matter, in the end? The fundamental keyword? _Commitment._ Such a big heavy word and one never linked with his brother, _ever._ The longest commitment Klaus had ever had (apart from the cult he had already thought of ghosting) was with perpetual inebriation of any kind. Not a great track record. 

But…

But.

In those three weeks, Ben saw how Klaus took care of Nathaniel. He saw the effort he’d put into being good with him, captured in a haze full of wonder and novelty and disbelief and the _fear_ that comes naturally of accidentally hurting a fragile thing if you just glance it the wrong way. He saw the potential and it made his fingertips _tingle_ for holding a baby he could call _his_ (he had yet to hold him, as compelling as it sounded, his heart could not bear the separation if it came to that, so he kept his distance and let Klaus do the work). 

He also saw that the whole situation and everything that it entailed hadn’t sunk completely yet. 

So Ben had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. It made perfect sense that it dropped when Klaus was forced to face Marie on her deathbed, and he couldn’t deny that it was part of the reason why Ben was so adamant about visiting her.

Because the thing was… He truthfully believed that Klaus was capable of this. If he made the effort, of course. If he got help, if he _tried._

He’d avidly hoped that Klaus would come to the same belief before doing something drastic like giving Nathaniel up for adoption. Ben was sure parenthood would make him good, would make him _grow,_ and eventually make him face all the trauma he was always running away from (Klaus being clean of hard drugs for two years didn’t mean he hadn’t stop running), because Klaus was a gentle soul, at his core, and he would want to be a good role model and caretaker, the kind _they_ didn’t have when they were little (if you don’t count Mom, which was a totally different topic) and to do that, you have to do the work _._ You have to work on your own garbage and take care of yourself. 

_Please let the baby be how Klaus finally takes care of himself,_ he found himself thinking. 

In a way, Nathaniel could be the lifesaver his brother desperately needed, floating in a ocean of dysfunction, emotional isolation and distractions which Klaus never seemed able to get out of, just waiting there for him to grab it so he could _stop drowning_. 

But that wasn’t fair, wasn’t it? It wasn’t healthy to put so much pressure on a child. To give them such a purpose before they could even talk: _there you go, baby, I feed you and put a roof over your head if you pretty please fix your parent. Fair game, mm? What do you say?_

It wasn’t right. It was _selfish_. 

~~_(What was the difference between this and Dad-?)_ ~~

Well, apparently Ben was not above selfishness himself ~~_(definitely a family trait, another reason why maybe this might not be a good idea)_ ~~. Yet, it didn’t mean it couldn’t work and bloom into something beautiful to have and love. Wasn’t that how they went about fixing bad people in that TV show about heaven and hell? Changing habits first and then slowly work on changing the motivations until they have naturalized being kind with each other just for the sake of being?

So Ben hoped and didn’t let his self-doubt get in the way, Klaus freaked out and almost gave up, and Nathaniel surprised them all.

*******

“So, he has powers,” he said as a greeting later in the night, after he’d made sure Nathaniel fell asleep. 

He had found Klaus in his room reading Nathaniel a book Maritza had bought them. It was the only one they had. The main characters were a dog and a cat who despite everything, become friends. It reminded him of the Disney movie The Fox and the Hound. 

“I cursed him,” Klaus replied in a resigned voice. Ben felt bad for him. Of everything he and his brother had in common, this he could understand very well. Their shared hatred of their powers. The only difference was that Ben had made peace with his very early on in his life, knowing it would kill him someday and it would be deserved, a punishment of all the killing he did. It was fair. 

Klaus, on the other hand, was just afraid of them (with reason), but with enough training, he could be _great_ , and there would be no reason to be afraid anymore. He could help a bunch of people who were stuck in this realm without anyone to talk to, help them to move on into the afterlife and who knows what else.

“Maybe they aren’t the same as yours,” he chose to say. 

“What?” He squealed, then winced at the volume. Luckily, Nathaniel didn’t even stir. “First you’re sure as hell he has my powers and I spent over two hours trying to make peace with the fact that one,” he raised a finger as counting, “he _is_ my son and two,” he raised a second one, “he has my _awful_ _terrible_ powers, and now you said that he doesn’t?!” Klaus said indignantly, pushing Ben by the shoulder with the book still in his hand. “Make up your fucking mind!”

“I am just saying that… he is too little, Klaus. Maybe his aren’t like yours. Allison would have said something about Claire rumoring people.”

“Maybe Claire doesn’t have powers? Maybe she’s normal?”

“It’s a possibility. Or maybe hers aren’t known yet. I mean, do _we_ know how we got our powers? Anything can be possible. The thing is… Nathaniel is not normal, and just for that, he will need you.”

“Us.” Ben blinked at him. Klaus snorted. “If you think you are leaving me alone with this mess, you have another thing coming, mister. You’re stuck with us and I will abuse my power to get a free nanny any time of the week.”

Ben laughed at that, taking it for what it was. Klaus was staying. Nathaniel was staying. They were doing this together, raising a possibly superpowered child in the sixties. 

“Yeah, he needs us.” 

Fuck. What a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, the baby stays <3 and he shares his middle name with Dave! totally unintentional, a happy surprise to learn that Cody said the J in Dave's dog tags stands for Joseph :) Also, Ben is such a manipulative jerk, I figured that after years of only having his voice and expressions as weapons to use against Klaus, he would get a good grip in guilt tripping him when is necessary, motivated by his perception of Klaus' own wellbeing or others (see: Luther and the rave). 
> 
> Translations:  
> "última vez, mijo" -> "last time, son"  
> "Debe echar de menos a sus mamitas" -> He must miss his moms (it's usual in latin american culture to call our grandmothers mom or mummy)
> 
> Thanks you for reading <3 if you wanna talk or something my url on tumblr is the same, I would love to have a chat! Have a lovely week!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you can, leave a comment, you will make this author very happy! I would love to hear what you thought! Be safe <3


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